


The Last Piece

by Vanamiya



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: I guess warning for the chantry incident, I have no idea what to classify this as, M/M, and Anders acting not exactly healthy, and I have no idea if I accomplished that, he thinks about his actions a little different then, lots of his reasoning stems from what happens when you have rival Hawke in the game, the request was "sad and sick"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5579085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanamiya/pseuds/Vanamiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke did not want to help Anders with his quest to gather ingredients for his little project and talk to the grand cleric. He still needed help however. Guess who had the honor of helping him instead...</p>
<p>“It’s been six years, you know? Six year of bickering and disagreeing and for what? For nothing. It was a constant stalemate. It is time that we come to a conclusion.”</p>
<p>“What is this about? Do you propose we fight to the death and whoever survives is right?”</p>
<p>“If I asked you to do something for me, without asking questions, would you do it?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Piece

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yoschag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yoschag/gifts).



> Alright! This is the Fenders secret santa present for xiiau! I am so sorry that it took so long. I had written most of the story and needed just some editing but I got sick over Christmas so it took me until the very last day. orz But I managed! I'm not sure if this is to your fancy, I tried making making it not-fluffy but I don't know if I succeeded. I hope you like it. ;;

Anders took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself but it had the opposite effect. All the pieces were in place. Only one was still missing.

 

Hawke had refused to help him, had not bought the lie about him wanting to get separated from Justice or had not cared. Anders could never tell with Hawke. That was why the last piece was walking through the door to his clinic right now, not even bothering to knock, rude as ever.

 

“You wanted to see me.” Fenris’ voice was laced with suspicion, rightfully so. Anders never called for Fenris. Anders never went to see Fenris, either. They shared friends and occasionally existed in the same space, when they were all gathered inside the Hanged Man or following Hawke on missions. But they were not friends, were not even proper rivals. There was no name for them. They fought on the same side and yet they didn’t. They came from similar backgrounds of abuse and yet Anders was doing something for his cause while Fenris just whined and antagonized those who had done nothing wrong, who just happened to be born with magic.

 

“It’s been six years, you know? Six year of bickering and disagreeing and for what? For nothing. It was a constant stalemate. It is time that we come to a conclusion.”

 

Sometimes, when he didn’t even know it himself, Fenris’ eyes were big and shone with emotion. Like a puppy. Anders had noticed that expression once or twice, had stowed it away somewhere, in a dark corner inside his head. For reference.

 

Now, his eyes were sharp and narrowed, seeming positively murderous. This was the look Fenris reserved for enemies. And for him. It was a privilege, in a way. He would never receive the puppy eyes but the look that could kill was all his.

 

“What is this about? Do you propose we fight to the death and whoever survives is right?”

 

Anders smiled but his smile held no mirth. Fenris was a curse, a nightmare, an itch worse than the scratching of darkspawn inside his head when he was forced to revisit the Deep Roads, worse than the aftereffect of a holy smite, worse than overdosing on lyrium. More than anyone, Anders wanted to prove Fenris wrong. He wanted to prove that mages were slaves and that they needed to be freed, he wanted to prove that Fenris was just a hypocrite himself, jealous of his own sister and every other mage, he wanted to prove that he wasn’t weak.

 

Justice and him were one. No one could say where he ended and Justice began. He knew however that some of the things he wished to do to Fenris, he wished Fenris to do to him, couldn’t be the idea of a fade spirit.

 

The one haunting his thoughts had been Fenris. He was the course and the salvation, he was the poison and the cure. They were not friends. They were not rivals. They were nothing and yet his feelings ran deeper than anything he had known these past years. Something that kept him sane a way that friendly pats on the shoulder couldn’t. Whenever he was about to lose himself, he remembered that scowl, the disgusted words. Abomination. Mages should all rot. It had brought him back, gritting his teeth in anger and spite. How he longed to steal those words right out of his mouth.

 

And that was why Fenris had the honor of being the final piece. Perhaps, when this was all over, it would be him who killed Anders and that would be just as well, no need to fight to the death. Anders would die with the knowledge of having been right all along, accepting the burden and looking deeply into those sharp eyes one last time, a parting gift to take with him on his way to the void.

 

“If I asked you to do something for me, without asking questions, would you do it?”

 

It had seemed impossible before, but Fenris stiffened even more at this question. He was taut like a bowstring, as if he expected Anders to summon an army of demons any second now. It was almost funny.

 

“Guess, mage. Would I do something for an abomination that is a danger not only to himself but to everyone around him?”

 

“And if I propose something to you?” Anders stalked closer to the elf, using his physical height advantage to tower over him. Fenris was not impressed. The predator role did not come naturally to Anders but he needed to play it to get what he want, even if it was just to goad Fenris into action. Wiggle your finger long enough and the cat will jump on its own. He hoped a certain warrior reacted the same way.

 

“You have nothing that would be of interest to me.” Dealing with Fenris was always a gamble. There were certain risks involved, risks that glowed and could reach into your chest to squeeze the life out of your heart. It was evident he was about to pounce but not in a good way. Now it was time for Anders to make his move.

 

“Are you sure of that? Is there really… nothing I could offer that would interest you? I have eyes, Fenris. And I’m sure so do you. They noticed me, at the very least.”

 

There was a reaction on Fenris’ face but only for the fraction of a second before he was back to suspicion and caution. However, it was enough to tell Anders that he hadn’t been wrong, it had not just been wishful thinking. If he could manage to make Fenris bite, then he had won.

 

“Don’t flatter yourself. Straying eyes don’t mean that I’m interested.”

 

“No? I had a different impression. No matter how good your pokerface is, your eyes betray you. Rarely, but they do. And it’s not like I’m not returning the sentiment. I can admit freely that you’re easy on the eyes, you know.”

 

Slowly, he was inching the elf into a corner, metaphorically. He was still deflecting but he would have to move eventually.

 

“Even if what you say were true, why would I do something for you afterwards? You haven’t actually offered anything yet.”

 

“And what if I tell you that you can do with me whatever you want? What if I offer you complete control? I won’t complain, I will let you do as you please. Be rough with me, insult me, dominate me. I’m completely yours.”

 

Now this got him the desired reaction. Finally. A glint appeared in Fenris’ eyes, one that Ander recognized from other moments in which they had been in compromising situations. Granted, those hadn’t happened often and they had both been good at ignoring the little pull that had been there for months, years. All it took was a small movement and Fenris took the initiative. Anders found himself slammed into a wall, then pulled down and finally claimed.

 

Fenris kissed like he argued. Hard, relentless, confident, even when it was wrong. By all accounts, what they were about to do was the very definition of wrong. They had been so good never letting this little attraction get in the way of their separate goals, had never acted on it. But Anders allowed himself this last bit of sin. It almost reminded him of earlier days when he had still fooled around with whoever was willing. But this was special. It would be the last time and the only time with Fenris.

 

He let Fenris be aggressive just like he had promised, encouraged him even to strip him quicker, bite him harder, steal his breath away longer. He lost his coat and his shirt first while Fenris didn’t even remove his gauntlet, carving red lines into his naked skin. A half-pained, half-pleasured moan tore from Anders’ lips and was swallowed whole the next second. This was better than anything he could imagine late at night in his rickety bed. It was the perfect last indulgence. The perfect last act of selfishness before his plan was put in action, reminding him of his remaining bit of humanity. An irony, that it was Fenris of all people who was responsible for it. But he was, after all, the last piece.

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning, Fenris was still there. Anders had asked him to stay so they could get that task he needed help with done as soon as possible. Part of him had expected that Fenris would be gone but no, there he was, already awake and gathering his clothes and armor. Come to think of it, they had actually shared a bed willingly for once. How the tables turned, even if not for long.

 

“What does that task you need help with involve?” Fenris’ voice was calculated. Gone was the heat and passion that had dripped from his moans not too long ago. Anders missed it. He almost wanted to get up and kiss Fenris just to make him react again but that had been a one-time thing. It would not do him well keep giving in to his desires. Justice was restless.

 

“You will see. I need some special ingredients. All you need to do is protect me a little while I gather them.” There was a pause. “And… one other thing. But I will explain later. Don’t look at me like that, it’s not hard, even you will be able to do it.” Anders chuckled, attempting to sound light-hearted. Fenris didn’t buy it. He never bought it.

 

“I don’t trust you, mage.”

 

“But you will help me.”

 

The only answer he received was an annoyed grunt that he interpreted as a yes.

 

Anders then finally got up to gather his things as well. It wouldn’t do to laze in bed too long, even if watching Fenris squeeze himself into those tight leggings with surprising ease was quite the sight to behold. It was weird. The instances when there had been no animosity between them had been so rare and far in-between that Anders could count them on two hands. But it was always oddly pleasing. Maybe they should have done this way earlier? Not that it still mattered. Nothing mattered anymore except his goal.

 

* * *

 

 

Getting the sela petrae and the drakestone was easy enough. He would have managed on his own, probably, but it was a lot faster this way. No matter what else he thought of Fenris, he was an excellent warrior and took care of the scum in Darktown as well as the giant spiders inside the Bone Pit while Anders could take as much as he needed of the materials.

 

The second part was where things got tricky. Gathering the ingredients had taken all day and they had barely spoken meanwhile, both preferring silence to more bickering, seeing how they were working together and Anders was far away in his thoughts, going through everything he still needed to do in his head over and over again.

“Meet me near the chantry tomorrow at noon.”

 

They were about to split ways in front of the clinic and Fenris had that look in his eyes again, the one that showed how little the elf trusted him. As if that had ever mattered. Anders didn’t need Fenris’ trust. He needed no one’s trust. He had wanted Hawke’s trust, one upon a time, but these times were over. He could only rely on himself now. What Anders needed was only Fenris’ help.

 

“What are you planning?”

 

“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t ask? I need you to talk to the grand cleric.”

 

That surprised Fenris enough to change the expression on his face, even if just for a moment. Though he shook his head quickly. “The more you tell me the less I’m inclined to still help you. I don’t owe you anything. You approached me. And why would an elf talk to the Grand Cleric? You must have lost what little common sense had once remained inside you.”

 

“I should have known that you wouldn’t keep your word. I know you’re a hypocrite but there I honestly hoped you were better than this.”

 

Anders was pulled down by his collar, forced to look directly into those endlessly green and angry eyes. They were so close, he could feel Fenris’ breath on his face and if one of them gave and leaned just a bit further, their lips would be touching. Suddenly, Fenris let go and scoffed. “That’s the exact same method you used yesterday. It would do you well to become a bit more creative.”

 

Anders chuckled. “It was worth a try.”  
  
Fenris turned away. “Tomorrow near the chantry at noon.” And then he was gone, off to return to his mansion in Hightown no doubt. Part of Anders was disappointed that they hadn’t kissed again but this was just as well. It wouldn’t do for Fenris to become a returning distraction, now that he was so close to his goal.

 

* * *

 

 

Fenris wasn’t exactly good at this whole “distraction” thing. It was hard enough to even get him to do it, even if he had agreed to meet Anders near the chantry. Someone else would most likely have thought that it was a miracle that still helped Anders, even if he didn’t trust him one bit but Anders knew better. For all his complaints, Fenris usually helped you once he had already given his word to do so. Anders had observed this quite a few times, whenever Hawke had decided to actually help a mage, for example. Fenris protested but he never walked away.

 

But even if he was shit at it, Fenris at least tried, giving Anders enough time to place his creations in the right places. He had worked on them all night but everything was ready now. He could feel something raging inside him that felt almost like euphoria, better even than anything his mortal body could give him. Justice would be served. He had only needed one last piece for everything to fall into place. Gone were the lingering traces of doubt and worry, all that remained was Justice.

 

When he returned to get Fenris and free him from that obviously incredibly uncomfortable situation, he could hear the Grand Cleric talking and stopped, just to listen for a bit.

 

“There is no need for you to feel like you don’t belong here. If you believe in the Maker and seek His aid, this is the place where you will find it. Your race does not make you any less of a believer. You are troubled and sometimes, finding hope in faith is what will bring you the courage to act.”

 

“I… thank you.”

 

“There you are! I looked all over for you.”

 

Fenris almost seemed reluctant to leave his new best friend, poor him, it wouldn’t do to get attached to the Grand Cleric now. She meanwhile looked at him and said something but Anders wasn’t even listening. He had done what he had come here for and that was all that mattered. He didn’t care for her words. She had not once used them to make a change and she wouldn’t start now.

 

They left the chantry and Fenris walked home, without saying another word. The deed was done and Anders only needed to wait now until the war began. The clock was ticking down. It would be midnight soon.

 

* * *

 

 

There Anders was, sitting on a crate, waiting for judgement. The chantry was no more and the Knight Commander had called out the right of annulment. The war had begun but no matter what the outcome would be, he had made his point. There was no compromise.

 

Hawke didn’t understand. None of them did but Anders had known this for a long time. It was alright. That was why he had executed his plan all on his own. Except for the help he had gotten from Fenris of course, who had not breathed a word about it, had not even seemed shocked at the realization that he had played a part in this. Perhaps that was for the best. Like this, no one would hold him responsible for what was ultimately not his fault and he could keep his dignity. Anders would keep quiet about it and let him have this, at the very least.

 

“He wants to die. Kill him and be done with it.”

 

This was no surprise, either. Of course Fenris would want him to die. Anders had used him, had he not? Not just for his plans for the chantry but also to separate himself from his past self, indulging in something he would never have done before as if that could make him a different man, a ruthless man. And Fenris was there, not trusting but still going along with it, his reasons beyond Anders to comprehend but also not important in the greater picture. Fenris had just been a piece, after all. Unwillingly he had played a part in the eventual mage rebellion as well. And oh how that had to make his blood boil.

 

Hawke seemed to have decided and pulled out a dagger, ready to pierce Anders with it, but he hesitated. He looked at it and put it away again before glancing at Fenris. “You do it. Who knows if he even dies when I poke him with a little knife like that, perhaps his demon would just take over.”

 

“As you wish.”

 

Fenris didn’t even hesitate and Anders almost wanted to chuckle at that. It was just as expected. A pair of skinny elf legs appeared in his field of vision that was directed at the ground. His right hand glowed, ready to reach into him and rip out his heart. Anders couldn’t help but let his gaze wander upwards, over all that spiky armor that he himself had peeled away not too long ago, until he reached Fenris’ face and stopped. That was not the kind of face he envisioned would greet him.

 

That was the face of doubt, regret… remorse. Fenris could be so expressive sometimes but those expressions were never aimed at him. Until now. Anders found himself feeling strangely touched, something cramped up inside his chest.

 

“Do you regret it?” Anders’ voice was quiet.

 

“I regret that I didn’t stop you.”

 

“Yeah, I figured.”

 

Fenris mouth turned into a taut, thin line. Anger. Now that was more like it.

 

“Despite what you may think, I did not wish this upon you. It did not have to be this way.”

 

Anders choked up. No. No no no. This was not what he had hoped. He was at peace with himself and what he had done. He was not going to start having regrets now that it was too late. He tried to smile but it was shaky, sad.

 

“That’s where you’re mistaken. Please, just do it. To be honest, I’m glad that it’s you. I wronged you… all of you and I deserve this.”

 

He didn’t say he was sorry because he didn’t feel sorry. It had to be done. He would take that belief to the void. Fenris was quick, sticking his hand into Anders’ chest and filling him with a feeling of too much. Too much light, too much noise, too much power. It exploded inside him and then everything turned black.

 

* * *

 

 

Anders woke up with dirt in his mouth and the realization that he wasn’t dead. He was alone now. Kirkwall burned around him. He heard distant shouts. And he was alive. Fenris had spared him.

 

He wasn’t sure if it had been an act of mercy or Fenris’ way to get revenge. It felt like punishment. He wasn’t granted peace, not even now. It hurt but perhaps… perhaps that was exactly what he had deserved and Fenris had known all along. One never knew with this damned elf.


End file.
